


Another Hand Like Our Own

by hakaseheart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakaseheart/pseuds/hakaseheart
Summary: When the reconstituted Overwatch had tapped him for this mission, Hanzo had accepted as long as certain conditions were met. He hadn't expected them to agree. But here he was, watching for Talon operatives at a base that had been officially abandoned for years. The mission had its own plan, but Hanzo's was to come in, keep watch, add a few notches to his bow, and then try to disappear back into his own seclusion.The plan had not included a vigilante trying to chat him up while the sun set before them in the most picturesque way possible.





	1. Intent

**Author's Note:**

> More tags will be added as chapters are posted!

The cliffs of Gibraltar were nothing like the mountains of Japan.

Despite being a series of islands resting in the ocean, Japan's landscape tended more towards flat expanses of dense development, with occasional bumps that led into more natural terrain punctuated with primal peaks of rock. The clouds would roll over the tops and only barely brush the skyscrapers of Tokyo. It was an urban jungle that Hanzo was more than comfortable with.

Gibraltar, on the other hand, was entirely different. While Japan had its share of rocky shores and rough beaches, this base, perched on the side of a cliff, towered over the water like a silent guardian. Perhaps the Watchpoint didn't have much to truly guard anymore, but Hanzo couldn't help but feel that it still kept watch in spite of itself. Overwatch had vanished and reappeared again, just like the peak of a mountain in a rolling stormcloud.

It wasn't in his nature to sigh, so instead Hanzo shifted his weight as he kept his gaze across the water. His attention was perfectly split, a skill he had honed after years of intense training, which meant that he noticed the footsteps well before they were actually audible. Slow, regular, comfortable. Friendly.

_Or at least_ , he noted to himself, _allied_.

“This place has the best sunsets,” came a gruff voice from behind him. He kept his perch balanced, barely moving a muscle despite the sudden sound. “Always liked watching them from here.”

The footsteps continued until they were right at Hanzo's side, then halted as the speaker sat down at the building's edge. Hanzo allowed himself a polite glance before resuming his lookout. “You say that as though you can never watch them again.” The words were even but pointed, a subtle reminder that company had not been requested.

Despite noticing the thorns in Hanzo's voice, the man who called himself a Soldier continued on. “Guess I don't expect to get to watch them like this.” The sentiment was soft for a voice so rough, and that took Hanzo more by surprise than anything else so far. “I can see well enough, but...not like I used to.”

Once again the assassin was caught off guard, and he rose to his feet in an attempt to better find his bearings. “We are allied for this mission, Commander Morrison,” he said carefully as he spared another glance down towards the other man. “Yet we are not allied outside of it. It would be wise to hold your tongue when it comes to disclosing your weaknesses.”

The soldier spat crudely off the cliff before the words had finished leaving Hanzo's mouth. “Don't call me that.” A growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he glared at the water. “That title's long since dead. If you gotta call me something, make it 'Jack'. It's close enough, at least.”

Hanzo was almost inclined to roll his eyes at the declaration. “Then, _Jack_ , it would be wise-”

“ _And_ I'll say what I want to who I want, and deal with the consequences.” Jack was quick to cut him off, this time with what might actually be a smirk, beneath the visor shimmering in the light of the sunset. He reached up to tap it lightly with one finger. “Figure people already got a good idea these eyes ain't in the best of shape. I'm not giving away much they can't already see.”

Caught by the simple retort, Hanzo found himself staying quiet in lieu of a response. When the reconstituted Overwatch had tapped him for this mission, he'd accepted as long as certain conditions were met. He hadn't expected them to agree. But here he was, watching for Talon operatives at a base that had been officially abandoned for years. The mission had its own plan, but Hanzo's was to come in, keep watch, add a few notches to his bow, and then try to disappear back into his own seclusion.

The plan had not included a vigilante trying to chat him up while the sun set before them in the most picturesque way possible.

“You got a bum deal, Shimada.” Jack's rough voice shook Hanzo from his brief contemplation, unaware of the scowl that immediately crossed the assassin's face. “Between the clan and-”

This time it was Hanzo's turn to interrupt the older soldier. “In much the same way that you prefer one name to the other,” he said with icicles nearly dripping from his words, “do not use my family name in its entirety to reference me.” His clan was shattered, its power nearly lost, but Hanzo still could not bring himself to shed it altogether. The thought of him being the sole representative of it, however, was more than he was currently capable of handling.

Jack took it in stride, with a lazy shrug and a grunt of acknowledgment. “Hanzo, then.” There was a pause in his cadence, something recognizable as hesitation before a predetermined leap of faith. The soldier had been a trained commander and a careful mediator, but he still managed to lay his true intentions bare in simple conversation.

“I can see where this is headed, Jack.” It seemed best to confront it openly, rather than risk enticing the soldier to continue his subtle interrogation. “So let us save time and talk directly. What interest do you have in me, that brings you here?”

Surprise flitted across Jack's half-masked face. It then gave way to a loud bark of laughter, and he leaned back and slapped his knee in amusement. “You really are...ha!” He chuckled for another moment before regaining his composure. When he spoke again, he'd shifted to seem more comfortable than Hanzo had ever seen him before. One knee up, his arm draped across it, facing more towards the ocean than towards the person he was speaking to. “I've seen your kind before, Hanzo.”

The mercenary raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent.

Content that he wasn't going to be interrupted, Jack continued. “The system treated you wrong. Maybe you messed up somewhere, maybe you didn't, but in the end, what you got wasn't what you deserved. And now you're trying to figure out who you are, and where you belong.” He clenched his hand into a fist, as though punctuating his words with a threat of violence. “You'll fight anyone, anywhere, just to show that you've got what it takes to exist. And you think it's gotta be helping you, somehow. But in fact it's just wearing you down until there's nothing of _you_ left.”

The pause hung long enough that Hanzo determined it was acceptable to respond. “Do you have some method of curing this presumed affliction? Or do you simply enjoy attempting to diagnose those around you?” Jack's answer wouldn't matter either way. As accurate as his words were, they could no longer sting Hanzo as much as his past sins did on a daily basis.

Some days he wondered if the regret was the only part of _him_ left.

To his surprise, Jack shook his head. “I don't have a cure for anything. You'd have to hit up the doc for that.” He chuckled to himself for a moment, knowing perfectly well that Dr. Ziegler wouldn't be able to help Hanzo much more than he already could. “But I know a kindred spirit. And sometimes, we just need to see another hand like our own.”

It was easy for Hanzo to hide surprise when he wasn't feeling any. He'd suspected the conversation was steering in this direction, although if anything, he hadn't seen it actually playing out to completion. The sun had nearly finished setting, and the fierce orange glow at the horizon grew dimmer with each passing second. He'd watched as Jack's face had gone from open and brave to guarded, and Hanzo knew what that meant.

There was a rustling of dust and the echo of a kicked rock from around the corner, and Hanzo moved to guard his emotions as carefully as possible. “We are not alone,” he said simply as he turned around to face the new arrivals. Jack turned as well, the open stance from a moment ago gone as he climbed to his feet.

“The kid,” Jack murmured, half a second before Lena Oxton came into view. She was followed immediately by her best furry friend, Winston, and the two were chattering away as they neared the lookout point.

“Hey-o!” Lena's voice reached them first, and both men readied themselves for the outside world to come trampling in on their little corner. “Me and the big guy have the night shift, so you two go get some rest.” Despite calling their attention, the two remained at the base of the building, still chatting as Jack looked to Hanzo once more.

The expression on the mercenary's face was as unreadable as ever, unquestionably by design. Still, Jack clapped a hand to Hanzo's shoulder and forced his voice to be as innocuously friendly as possible. “What do you say I give you a tour? Give us something to do before we knock ourselves out for the night.”

Hanzo tensed at Jack's touch, but did not flinch or pull away. His lips finally broke into something nearing half a smile, and he looked away as he replied. “It would be best to know the location in which I will be resting. I accept.”

The second shift down below stayed mercifully ignorant of the exchange happening up above. Even if they'd been able to read the signs being subtly sent, they were better off ignoring them in favor of the mission at hand.

~

The impromptu tour took them through the launch bay, the old crew quarters, the research lab, and eventually ended in the long catwalk of doors that led to their individual rooms. Hanzo showed no surprise on his face as Jack led them both to a single door, typed in a quick code, and guided him inside. The door slid shut behind them, and Hanzo's eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting to better see the sparsely-decorated living quarters.

Jack leaned over to hang his gun in a rack beside the door, conveniently placed in case of an urgent summons or other emergency. Hanzo waited until the other man had stepped away, clearly signaling his intent to continue, before he dared hang his bow and quiver in the empty spot as well.

The moment his weapon had settled onto the hook, he felt a hand at his waist and a brush of hair at his neck. Hanzo tensed automatically; despite knowing where the encounter was heading, the sudden close touch was more than he'd been prepared for. There was a glance of skin against his bare shoulder, before the grip at his waist loosened and Jack remembered to use his words.

“Hey. If you don't wanna, we don't-”

Hanzo pulled away enough to turn around and face Jack properly. The older man's visor glinted in the dim lighting, and he wondered how he hadn't felt the touch of metal before hair or skin. “I would not be here at this moment if I did not have a similar desire,” he said distinctly. “But, I have little need for such...pleasantries.”

It was difficult to read Jack's expression when his eyes were hidden behind the visor, but the other man seemed to raise an eyebrow as he took a half step backwards. “And what if I do?” The tone of his voice wasn't challenging, as Hanzo had originally expected it to be. It was far too curious for that, and had the ronin already seriously considering an answer. “I'm pretty sure we both want this to be mutually enjoyable, yeah? So what're you up for?”

Hanzo took his time in formulating a response. “I do not need for our lips to touch,” he began slowly, while unfastening his boots and leaving them by the door. “Or for a useless exchange of romantic epithets.” He reached up to untie the knot of hair on his head, leaving his hair to fall dramatically about his face and neck. It was more comfortable, for certain, but he also expected it to send a certain message.

He could see the message had been received as Jack unconsciously bit his lip before responding. “No kissing on the mouth, sure. But I want to enjoy that body of yours, Hanzo.” Jack also began to slowly undress, tugging off his boots and setting them by the foot of his bed. “And I ain't saying we gotta go all night or anything, but I like to take my time. That alright?”

Jack punctuated his terms by looking squarely at Hanzo as he reached up and pulled the visor and mask from his face. The metal and glass gave way to scarred skin and blue eyes that made the ronin suddenly grateful for the apparatus. If he'd been able to see those eyes from the beginning, he wasn't certain he could have held out for this long.

“Your eyes...” Hanzo murmured as he forgot himself for a moment.

Jack snorted and unzipped his jacket as he leaned back against his bed. “I told you, I can see well enough. Not gonna win any marksmanship contests, though.” The jacket was tossed unceremoniously on a chair at the opposite side of the room. “Not like I'd enter them.”

Hanzo found himself unnerved at the sudden power shift in the conversation. He compensated by removing his gloves and belt, until he was kicking his pants off onto the floor as he slowly approached where Jack was sitting on the bed. “Your eyesight is not in question,” he said, keeping a cautious eye on Jack's face as he placed his knees on either side of the soldier's lap. “You did, however, mention something about enjoyment.”

A glimmer flickered in Jack's blue eyes, and Hanzo was taken by surprise when the other man grabbed his left wrist and pressed scarred lips against the back of his hand. His lips were warm, despite the uncomfortable gesture, and Hanzo couldn't suppress the intake of breath that gave away the beginning of his arousal.

“Mm. There we go,” Jack murmured against his skin, then continued to slowly kiss his way up the exposed arm until his face was buried in Hanzo's shoulder. The ronin felt an urge to push him away, to reject what he considered to be a pointless romantic overture. But their recent agreement – no, their _contract_ for the encounter rang in his memory, and he stayed his impulse for the sake of their mutual enjoyment.

Jack's mouth on his skin was almost negligible, until the man hit a certain point on Hanzo's neck and the archer felt a spark travel down his spine. His back arched against his will as he moaned in a wanton way quite unfamiliar to him. Jack responded with a chuckle, breath hot on his skin as he went back to that same spot and gave it another dose of attention.

Hanzo's knees began to buckle as his thoughts blanked from Jack's ministrations, and he regained his senses enough to refuse to succumb like some common harlot. He hooked his toes under the mattress to brace himself enough to shove Jack backwards onto the bed. That same glint shone in those blue eyes once more, but this time Jack waited to see what Hanzo would do next.

For his part, Hanzo wasn't entirely certain. The excess of attention made him uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as losing control over his own arousal. His shitagi was only barely kept in place by the sash tied at his waist, and the modern underthings he sported didn't leave much to the imagination. In pushing Jack away, he'd given him the opportunity to ogle Hanzo at his own leisure instead, and it only served to annoy him further.

He focused on the black t-shirt stretched tight across Jack's muscular chest, still there despite how much clothing they had both been divested of so far. Frowning at the smirk still present on the other man's face, Hanzo leaned forward and grabbed at the black fabric, tugging upward until Jack had no choice but to slide the shirt up and off his own torso.

“Like the view?” Jack asked with a grin, watching Hanzo's eyes dart across the chiseled wasteland of his chest. It was muscular, to be sure, and left little of his anatomy to the imagination. But what took Hanzo off-guard was the veritable minefield of scars that decorated Jack's skin, a visual testament to the sheer number of battles the soldier had been through.

Hanzo had his own scars, of course. Jack's hand was drifting across one of them at that moment, thumb rubbing idly across the smooth ridge on his left thigh. But where his were small and unobtrusive, indicative of his role as an assassin who kept well out of sight, Jack's were loud and angry in a way that took his breath away. “It is...impressive,” he eventually managed to say. He reached down to drift his hand across a particularly prominent network of scars. It was rough to the touch, yet he could hear the small intake of breath from Jack's lips as he danced his fingers across the skin. “One could not help but be surprised that you yet live.”

He got a breathy chuckle in response. “Someone told me once I wouldn't even know how to die.” Jack gently took Hanzo's hand in his own and brought it to his mouth, sliding his tongue over and around the archer's fingers until Hanzo's reaction was pressing against his stomach. “Pretty sure she's right.”

The words murmured around his fingers sent another shiver of desire through Hanzo's gut. Almost growling in reply, he slid his fingers from Jack's mouth and traced them down the soldier's arm to pin his wrist against the bed instead. “Have you had your fill?” Hanzo asked roughly, his voice strained as he felt Jack's own arousal pressing against him from below. “Or must we continue this dance further?”

Jack grinned. “It's been what, ten minutes? You ready to go that soon?” As Hanzo began to formulate a reply, he felt Jack's hips shift beneath him, just a moment before he found the world spinning and the back of his head slammed against the pillow. The soldier sat above him, looking as smug as ever as he ground his own clothed erection against Hanzo's. “Let me have just a little more fun. I'll even do the work for you.”

He pressed one hand flat against the archer's chest, signaling him to stay put as he backed away to stand up by the edge of the bed. In another second his fly was open and his pants falling to the floor, with his briefs following a moment later. Then, with much more ease and care, he reached forward and slid Hanzo's own underthings off his legs, smirking as Hanzo's erection bounced free from its constraints.

By the time Hanzo had found his sense of reason, Jack's tongue had found its way to the tip of his cock. The soldier certainly took his time in lavishing his attention on Hanzo, and it irritated him almost as much as it made his mind go mercilessly blank. He chose to convey this annoyance by reaching down and threading his fingers in the snow-white hair, taking enough of a hold to remind Jack who had allowed him that close to begin with. Jack responded with a murmured chuckle around his girth, a trembling vibration that made Hanzo's toes curl.

“You...” Hanzo managed to growl, struggling hard to find his words as the soldier continued to run his tongue up and down the length of his erection. “...are entirely too slow, old man.”

This time Jack pulled back enough to laugh properly. “And you, young pup, are way too impatient.” Hanzo tightened his grip in Jack's hair in protest, but was caught off guard as Jack hooked his shoulders under each of Hanzo's thighs and pushed. The archer found himself rocking back, shoulders pressed against the wall as Jack dove in to take the entirety of Hanzo's length into his mouth.

Knocking his head against the wall with a moan, Hanzo was too engrossed by the wet heat around his cock to think long on the indignity of his current position. He kept one hand tangled in Jack's hair, anchored by that thin veneer of control, while the other hand gripped the sheets tight enough to pull them from the mattress. Jack's rough lips and velvety tongue alternated the sensations enough that Hanzo could feel his carefully-wound demeanor swiftly dissolving.

“ _Matte yo_ ,” he ground out, bracing his back against the wall as he tugged on Jack's hair. The older man's mouth slid off his cock with a wet, hollow sound. “I do not want...” Hanzo tried to look Jack in the eyes, but found himself intimidated by the shine he saw there. Instead he looked at the wall to his right, trying hard to pretend as though he was being demure. “Not like this.”

The words hung in the air for a moment as each man contemplated the other's intentions. Finally, Jack gently pulled away, chuckling as Hanzo's fingers loosened enough to let him go. “By your head,” he said a moment later, and Hanzo looked back to see him gesturing to a cubbyhole to his left. He followed the gesture to see a small bottle sitting there, in easy reach of anyone who would be in the bed. After another moment he nodded, passing the bottle to Jack and waiting to see what the soldier would do next.

Hanzo was still somewhat unsure as to how he wanted to finish their encounter, but their loose agreement from earlier still sat heavily on his conscience. They had an understanding, and it was his intent that both of them would enjoy their encounter. Hanzo knew he wasn't an affectionate person, but he had experienced successful couplings in the past, and found himself hoping that this could be one of them as well.

He wasn't entirely certain what Jack was going to do next, so he couldn't help his surprise when Jack used the bottle to prepare _himself_ instead of Hanzo. The soldier reached down with startling dexterity, pressing two fingers inside of himself as he raised an eyebrow at the astonished archer.

“Hey, I said I'd do the work for you.” He bit back a moan as he continued to work himself open. “I'd hate to go back on my word.”

Biting his lip, Hanzo straightened himself out against the wall. In another moment Jack followed, straddling Hanzo's lap as the two shifted to a more comfortable position. Tossing the closed bottle back on the shelf, Jack placed his hands on Hanzo's hips and grinned as he slowly lowered himself down onto the archer's stalwart erection. After an awkward moment where Hanzo had to guide himself properly inside the older man, he felt himself being slowly enveloped by a tight, slick heat.

In his experience, Hanzo had always found this part to be the hardest. Either his partner was unsure, or new to this sort of thing, and several long minutes would have to spent working their way to a place of common comfort. This time, however, was something entirely new. Jack slid onto his cock like they'd been doing it for years, and within seconds Hanzo found himself fully seated and struggling to keep himself from immediately establishing a strong and steady rhythm.

Sure enough, despite the easy insertion, Jack still took a moment to adjust. His own cock, significantly less scarred than the rest of his body, slapped lightly against his tight stomach as he slowly raised himself up and down again on Hanzo's lap. The archer groaned, unable to restrain himself any longer, and he dug one hand into Jack's hip as he pulled the older man into a slow, steady rhythm.

He was rewarded with a scratchy grunt that convinced him Jack was having just as much trouble as Hanzo was. One of Jack's hands slipped from his hip to clutch the bedsheet instead, and a moment later they had picked up the pace until Jack was bouncing on Hanzo's cock as though he owned it.

It wasn't long into their mutually frantic pace until Hanzo felt the telltale pressure build up in his gut, the tremor in his thighs that signaled he wasn't going to last much longer. Biting his lip, he grabbed Jack's hips with both hands and dug his fingers in deep, hoping to convey through touch what he knew he couldn't with words.

Again Jack chuckled, something that felt like an automatic response at this point. “Already?” he teased between gasping breaths as he reached to begin stroking himself. When Hanzo grunted in reply, he smirked and leaned back into the full sensation of their coupling. “Yeah, alright. Go for it.”

It hadn't occurred to Hanzo that he might need some sort of permission from Jack in order to find his release. The words at first felt presumptuous, until he realized that it gave him a freedom from responsibility he hadn't really considered before. That freedom set in as his balls tightened, and the pressure came to a peak and released inside the soldier in quick succession. Hanzo's head slammed back against the wall as he came, his eyes shut as the waves of pleasure rocked through him.

“Shit,” Jack muttered, his voice tight as he adjusted his angle and continued to pleasure himself on the archer's cock. Hanzo's thrusts were just beginning to weaken when Jack followed him over the edge, painting the younger man's chest with three thick ropes of come. Hanzo grunted weakly as Jack spasmed on top of him, until the soldier pitched backward and just barely managed to catch himself. It was another moment before Hanzo slid out of Jack, fully expended and thoroughly exhausted.

The two men sat on opposite ends of the bed for several minutes, each catching their breath as well as finding their guard. Hanzo waited until his thighs had stopped twitching before he struggled up onto his elbows to look at Jack again. The older man sitting back on his ass, holding himself up on the bed as he kept a cautious eye over at Hanzo.

Hanzo took the opportunity to smirk. “Do you trust me so little, that you worry I might kill you in your own bed?”

Pushing himself forward to rest his arms on his knees, Jack shook his head. “Nah. Just making sure I didn't give you a heart attack, old man.”

The epithet was obviously meant in jest, given their relative ages, but Hanzo couldn't help but bristle at it nonetheless. “If I had a heart,” he taunted back, “I doubt it could be caught off guard by someone like you.”

Jack took the barb in stride, choosing instead to nod his head towards the door on the opposite wall from the bed. “Bathroom's over there, if you want it.” The archer gave him a skeptical look until he shrugged. “You're my guest, I can wait.” Hanzo nodded, then wordlessly rose and, with only one or two shaky steps, made his way to the small en suite bathroom.

The soldier watched him every step of the way.

~

It was the sun shining through a window thirteen feet off the floor that woke Jack several hours later. He'd ended up at the corner of the bed, leaning against the wall with a blanket loosely draped over his lap. His clothing was folded in a neat pile at the opposite corner, his jacket hung properly on the chair he'd tossed it over the night before.

He was alone.

This time, Jack's chuckle was as much at himself as it was towards the wayward archer. “Yeah, I figured,” he muttered as he moved to the edge of the bed. His eyes scanned the rest of the room, finding every trace of Hanzo missing, but all of his own possessions still perfectly intact. “Guess he wouldn't...”

His words trailed off as his gaze settled on his rifle, still hung on the rack by the door. Underneath it, leaning against the wall with all the deliberate intent of a signed letter, was one lone arrow.

Alone with his thoughts, Jack let himself smile.

 


	2. Distraction

It was two more days before Hanzo approached Jack after a watch shift. The two had been on opposite ends of the base for their watch, and Jack had just settled into accepting that their one night stand had been exactly that. The sun was setting low on the horizon as Jack made his way back towards the canteen, hoping that whatever was there to eat was still warm and plentiful.

He saw the glimpse of black silk a moment before the archer emerged from an adjoining hallway. In another second Hanzo was walking by his side, taking brisk, short strides to keep pace with the taller man. Jack gave him a sidelong nod, biting back his curiosity at how this interaction would play out.

They were halfway to the canteen when Hanzo spoke. “I left something in your room,” he said carefully, each word pronounced so crisply as to not be misheard. “I would like to retrieve it after dinner.”

Jack's mind immediately thought to the lone arrow, left leaning against the wall of his room. It was placed so deliberately, outside of the quiver it had entered in, that Jack knew it had been no mistake. “Yeah. Of course.” He took a moment as they walked to make sure that nobody was around, let alone in earshot. “Got any plans after that?”

He knew it was a risk to ask. Their last encounter had been so subtly planned that it was a miracle either of them had ended up on the same page at all. But he couldn't lie to himself – fucking Hanzo had been the best he'd had in months, and if the archer was up for more, there was no way he was going to leave it lying on the table.

Out of the corner of his visor, he caught the smirk that tugged at the corner of Hanzo's mouth. “I believe I have someone to do,” he said, just as carefully as before. Jack considered pushing the matter further, but then they passed through the door of the canteen and heard a cluster of voices chattering by the entrance. While Jack didn't feel a pressing need to keep his extra-curricular activities completely secret, he had a feeling Hanzo felt otherwise.

Sure enough, the younger man almost seemed to dart in front of him, gaining ground quickly enough so that nobody might notice that the two had entered at the same time. Sighing, Jack trudged to the kitchen and fixed himself a plate of the various foods they had available – some pizza, a handful of chips, leftover ham and a scoop of stuffing – before plopping down at a table next to Reinhardt and his squire.

“Jack!” Reinhardt boomed in his trademark voice, reaching over to clap him soundly on the back. “You join us for glory! I am happy to see you, my friend.”

The young woman across from them eyed him up skeptically. “Didn't you die?” she asked blatantly, clearly unafraid of what the answer might be. Whether that was due to her own self-confidence or because of Reinhardt's presence was yet to be determined. “You seem pretty alive for a dead guy.”

Jack removed his visor and placed it on the table beside his tray, avoiding the looks of surprise and pity he could see on the other's faces. “Yeah, well, ask Angela sometime about how dead some people manage to stay around here.” He shoveled a messy bite of ham and stuffing into his mouth before giving the woman another look. “What's your dad think about you being here, huh?”

Brigitte's expression immediately froze him out as she looked back at the scraps of food left on her plate. “What, do you think me just a girl with no mind of my own? I made my decision years ago.” In another moment the food had disappeared into her mouth and she was standing with her tray held stiffly in front of her. “I'm going to call it a night. See you in the morning, old man.”

Jack let her drop her tray off and leave the canteen before he turned to Reinhardt and chuckled. “She's a good kid. Gonna make her dad proud.” Torbjörn had always been a strong and reliable resource, not to mention a friend with an inimitable character. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he felt a little better knowing that one of Torbjörn's brood was watching his back out on this godforsaken rock.

“Already has.” The look on the knight's face was a mix of pride and acceptance, and Jack could see that the other man had come to terms with Brigitte's decision a long time ago. Then Reinhardt turned his scarred eye on Jack and gave him a critical look that made him hesitate to take another bite. “So what about you, Jack? I did not expect to see you back here, of all places. I thought you had turned your back on Overwatch for good.”

Caught with his mouth full, Jack took the time to chew and swallow and find an answer for his old friend. “Yeah, well, didn't take, I guess.” He leaned back to crack his back and shrug. “I'm here as a mercenary more than a member of Overwatch.” His eyes flicked over to the far corner of the room, where an indifferent archer was calmly consuming his own meal. “Seems like Overwatch has more mercenaries than soldiers these days anyway.”

He was answered with a murmur of agreement, followed by another clap on the back from Reinhardt's massive hand. “You might be right, my friend.” They ate together in silence for another minute or too, until the knight's plate was empty and he climbed to his feet.

“Mercenary or comrade in arms, Jack, I am glad to have you here.” Reinhardt's words were almost as pure as his grin, and Jack almost felt like he wasn't worthy of seeing or hearing either of them. “It is hard to find somebody worthy to watch my back these days. You, I trust. Rest well, friend.”

Jack laughed, in that it was the only thing he could think to do that wouldn't be rude. “Heh. You too, Rein. Get your beauty sleep while you still can.” The older man laughed heartily in response, and in another moment, had disappeared back into the hallway towards the general barracks.

Almost instinctively, Jack looked back over to the corner from before, only to see it surprisingly empty. At some point Hanzo had slipped out of the canteen. Jack hadn't a clue that he'd left, which left him feeling only a little anxious as he remembered the other man's training as an assassin. The unease threatened his appetite, and he shoved the rest of his food into his face before dumping his tray and heading back to his own quarters.

He was halfway down the hallway to his room when he caught a glimpse of the archer out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, as he approached the door, Hanzo appeared on the edge of the balcony as if he hadn't been hiding in an extremely unlikely perch outside Jack's room.

Jack snorted lightly as he moved to unlock his door. “So. Forgot something, huh?”

“Indeed.” Hanzo followed him inside and let the door click shut behind them. “I have no desire to leave it behind.” The rustle of the archer's boots being set against the wall gave Jack all the confirmation he needed about the younger man's intentions, and he made sure to lock the door sooner rather than later.

~

Their second coupling moved more quickly than the first. It was clear that Hanzo had found his confidence when it came to Jack, and it wasn't long before their clothes were fully discarded onto various spots across the floor.

What surprised the soldier was Hanzo's increased willingness to be attended to. He took advantage of the archer allowing him to explore his body with both fingers and tongue alike, and when Hanzo responded in an exceptionally delicious fashion, Jack made sure to make note of it for later. There was less confusion this time, less dancing around the issue.

There was also Hanzo flipping Jack on his back this time, and with very little fanfare, topped Jack so thoroughly that he almost felt like a young man again.

He stayed awake a little longer this time, managing to make it until both men were cleaned up and settled in the bed, in a position just short of cuddling. Then sleep overtook him and he woke up the next morning refreshed and alone once more.

The arrow remained, untouched, by his door.

~

The sun was rising over Gibraltar, just short of two days later, sending a misty orange haze throughout the watchpoint as two comrades ended their overnight watch shift together. A quiet breakfast of pancakes and eggs took entirely too long to finish before Hanzo and Jack made their way back to Jack's room and satisfied several hours' worth of sexual tension.

Jack couldn't help but worry, when he let himself think about it, that perhaps his beneficial relationship with Hanzo might be getting out of hand. He prided himself too much on his focus and drive to let himself be fully distracted by a handsome assassin taking every opportunity to pose suggestively in front of him during a watch shift. But he couldn't argue that ending their time at their posts with a rigorous session of mutually enjoyable sex could, in itself, be distracting.

He wasn't sure what it was distracting him from, but he was fairly certain it might be a problem.

Nonetheless, it was their third encounter together, and Jack felt the need to press things a bit further. This time after their now-customary struggle for control, he rolled Hanzo across the floor until the smaller man was trapped under him, their bodies hot and sweaty against each other as they fought for their position for the night.

But when Jack reached to press a careful finger against Hanzo's hole, he found himself flung across the room and into the desk chair that was holding his jacket.

“No,” Hanzo said simply as he moved to a kneeling position on the floor.

More worried about the chair than his own back, Jack pushed the furniture aside and pulled himself to a sitting position as well. “Didn't have to toss me for it.”

There was a moment of silence before a look of regret flashed across Hanzo's face. “My apologies,” he finally replied, remorse evident in his voice. “It was...a reflex.”

“Some reflex.” Jack stretched and rolled his shoulder, checking for injuries more out of show than actual concern about his body. Hanzo was still in the same pose, hands on his spread knees while looking equal parts shamed and uncomfortable. Sighing, Jack settled back into a more comfortable position while he figured out what to do next. “Still, doesn't really seem fair. I don't mind taking, but doing it all the time gets boring. Y'know?”

Hanzo's hands tightened their grip on his knees as he looked towards a different corner of the room. “I...will pleasure you,” he said slowly, clearly looking for the most accurate words to express himself. “On the bed.” When his eyes met Jack's again, they held a conviction that reminded the soldier of the agreement they'd made on the night of their first encounter. The archer held himself to his word, and Jack couldn't help but feel he had to honor that.

He climbed to his feet and stretched again, slowly, before walking to the bed and making himself comfortable. His own erection had faltered a bit during the altercation, but he dropped one knee to present it anyway and gave Hanzo a deliberate look. “Well then,” he drawled, trying to convey a false sort of boredom. “Go at it.”

It took only a few minutes for Jack to discover exactly how skilled the archer was at giving a proper blowjob. He could only hope, as he struggled to bring his wits back around again, that he was capable of giving back in kind.

~

On their fourth encounter, Jack started wonder if they should just share quarters already.

They'd already spent more than half of their last seven nights in bed together, after all. And while Jack was fairly sure that word about them was getting around to everyone else in the base, he knew their time together was going to be limited. Wouldn't it make sense to just keep their things in one room? It would certainly mean less time spent traveling across the base as their circumstances required.

Then again, Hanzo's arrow had kept its same spot by the door the whole time. Jack was starting to get used to its presence there, a constant excuse for the archer to stop by his room at any hour that seemed convenient for them both. They'd found a dynamic that worked for them, after all – why risk disrupting it?

This fourth time was the best yet, if Jack was honest with himself. Not only had they gone for one round upon entering the room together, but they'd even given themselves some resting time and made for a solid round two as well. Jack was far from a young pup, but he didn't mind testing the limits of his energy in his old age.

The sun peeked its rays through the window and Jack grunted as he rolled over in the bed. He recognized a moment later that he hadn't hit anybody in his movement, and cracked his eyes open to see Hanzo dressing himself blatantly in the middle of the room. Smirking into the pillow, Jack enjoyed the show until the archer was fully dressed.

“Leaving already?” he asked as Hanzo made his way over to the door. The archer paused for a moment and looked back towards the bed. “We could always go for a round three.”

Hanzo turned his head before replying, but Jack could clearly hear the smile in his voice. “Perhaps next time,” he said as he lifted his bow from its spot on the weapon rack. There might have been a chance for another sentence in there somewhere, but then the door opened and closed and Jack found himself alone in the slowly brightening room.

He let his eyes fall shut and focused on returning to sleep. The daily base huddle wouldn't be until ten in the morning, and he could tell without checking the clock that it wasn't even past seven yet. A few more hours sleep could only be a good thing.

Fifteen minutes later he gave up. The sun was warming the room too quickly for him to focus on falling asleep, and he swung his feet down to the floor and tried to stretch out a crick in his back. It was early yet, but there would likely be coffee and donuts in the canteen, and that'd be enough for Jack to start his day at the very least.

Visor in place, with his jacket on but unzipped, he slid his feet into a pair of sneakers and sleepily left his room.

 

Not two steps later, something pinged in the back of his brain and he reacted instinctively, leaping back into a somersault and grabbing a blade he kept tucked into a side pocket of his leather jacket. He barely had a chance to properly assess the situation before he heard a familiar laugh echo from an unlikely perch off the balcony to his right.

“It isn't often I get to see you in your pajamas, Jack.”

Grunting, Jack climbed back to his feet and slotted the knife back into its hidden sheath. “Ana,” he greeted in an equally scratchy voice. “Little early for this bullshit, isn't it?”

The older woman grinned from under her hooded cloak and eyepatch. “Is it, though? You've always been the type to be up before dawn, with whatever exercises you decided you needed.” She folded her legs and arms in a modified seated position, holding her rifle in a way that would allow her to draw it quickly if needed. Ana was a friend, and a confidante, but she would always be a protector before anything else.

“Yeah, well, there's not a lot of space around this place.” It was a terrible excuse. Jack knew it but used it anyway. He could probably take a decent jog around if he wanted to, or abscond to the crew barracks for more traditional training. But he couldn't quite bring himself to feel comfortable at the watchpoint, not the way he used to.

Not to mention, he'd found other things to take up his time as of late.

“Wait,” he said as the situation started to work itself out in his head. “How long have you been there?”

Ana answered him with a sly smile that had always meant that Jack was in for a world of trouble. “Oh, that depends,” she said with bemusement. “On if you're going to tell me more as to why the elder Shimada brother was in your room at six in the morning.”

Cursing under his breath, Jack took a step back and let himself lean against the wall by his door. As much as he'd been considering being more open about his arrangement with Hanzo, he definitely wasn't going to do it without the other man's permission. Power dynamics aside, it was just the right thing to do. “Would you believe we were talking strategy?”

The older woman's cackle echoed against the walls. “What, the same strategy you used to talk with Ga-”

Her words were cut off when a clang rang out on the metal next to her perch, followed by a slight hum from the blade that had been lodged there just a fraction of a second earlier. Jack still stood on the balcony, turned slightly away from Ana so that his throwing arm was closest to her. It had taken him the blink of an eye to throw the knife at her, but either his aim was significantly off or he had only meant the gesture as a warning.

Ana knew when not to push Jack any further. “It doesn't take a scholar to see the evidence when it is laid plain, Jack.” A touch of acid entered her motherly voice, as if to remind him that she hadn't been entirely in the wrong. “It matters little to me if you are entertaining yourself with the Shimada boy.”

“Then I guess you should keep your nose out of it.” Jack regretted his words immediately. The two of them had been through so much together, from Overwatch to Giza and beyond. He trusted Ana with his life, but somehow this felt different. It felt too much like meddling. It was too much like her being a _mother_.

It was another moment before Ana spoke again. “I suppose I will,” she said, the hurt evident in her voice. She moved to the other side of the perch, enough away from Jack that he couldn't clearly see her expression. “If that is what you want.”

“Thanks.” Jack hoped she could feel the shame radiating off of him. Rather than say it out loud, however, he chose to start walking along the balcony towards his original destination. He made it about ten feet before his brain caught up to the wider situation as a whole. “Wait. If you're back, then-”

The smirk was back in Ana's voice as she interrupted. “I am simply the advance. The others are due in about...half an hour's time.”

Jack cursed under his breath for the second time that morning. He'd been so caught off guard by Ana's presence that he'd forgotten why she'd been gone in the first place. While the rest of them had stayed back at the base to keep watch while Angela went through the data kept there for safekeeping, a scouting team had been sent out to investigate Overwatch's other old locations.

That team had consisted of Ana Amari, Torbjörn Lindholm, an omnic monk, and Shimada Genji.

“ _Shit._ ” He looked back to where Ana was sitting, seeming all the more like the cat that got away with the canary. “Did he see you?”

Leaning back against the metal ridge behind her, Ana laid out her rifle across her lap and shrugged. “Who, the Shimada brother?” She barely waited for a response before she continued. “He's a sniper, Jack. Doesn't even use a scope. What do _you_ think?”

Jack was down the stairs and out the door into the main area of the base before he had a chance to hear Ana's cackling behind him. He knew where Hanzo's quarters were – having given him that tour a week ago – and he could only hope that the archer was still there at this time in the morning.

He was barely halfway to the other set of quarters before he saw the flash of black silk disappear into a side hallway. Jack changed his course and swiftly caught up to the retreating archer, calling out before he reached the doorway that led out towards the base's helipad.

“Hanzo!” Jack's voice was rough and winded. While he could maintain a good sprint, he certainly wasn't used to having to call out in the middle of it. Still, the younger man stopped and partially turned to face him, and Jack could see the unamused expression plastered on his face. “Did you...are you...”

Hanzo shifted the duffel bag on his back, likely adjusting it for weight as much as for show. “My conditions were set when I accepted this mission,” he said, words chosen as carefully as always. Maybe it was Jack being uncharacteristically hopeful, but he thought he could hear a bit more strain in them than usual. “As those conditions are being breached, the contract is broken, and I shall take my leave.”

Not many people on the base were privy to the fact that Hanzo had only come aboard as long as Genji wasn't there as well. Winston had spilled the beans to him pretty early on, and Jack hadn't seen any need share the information further. But here it was, staring him in the face, and he knew that he couldn't argue the situation without possibly making it worse.

“You've...got a place here,” he said lamely, not knowing how else to go about saying what he actually wanted to say. “If you want to come back. If,” he started, knowing before he finished that it was a stupid idea, “you ever want to work things out with-”

“ _My place_ is where _I_ decide it is,” Hanzo shot back bitterly, cutting him off before Jack could continue with the blasphemous suggestion. When he turned to face the morning sun, the shadow of his back made him seem even more the assassin than the archer that Jack knew. “That decision is mine, and mine alone to make.”

Jack couldn't think of another thing to say. He couldn't argue the contract, or Hanzo's conditions, and he hated his lost silver tongue as the other man continued exiting the base. It wasn't until he was at the very edge of the doorframe that his mind flashed back to his quarters and the last thing he really had left to ask.

“Your arrow. Do you-”

Hanzo shifted the pack again and paused long enough to call one last thing over his shoulder. “If I left something behind,” he said, with all the precision his profession called for, “then I shall retrieve it at another time.” That said, it was only a few more steps before he was around the corner and out of sight entirely.

Jack let himself fall back against the nearest wall and chuckled darkly. He never would have pegged himself as someone who'd get sentimental over just a week's worth of sex, but here he was nonetheless. At least he hadn't done anything really foolish, like begging him to stay, or dropping platitudes he wasn't really ready for. In that, at least, he could be proud.

But now the base was down one sniper. And the one that would replace him was one that was going to give him shit over his sexual escapades for the next year, minimum. Still, Jack was pretty sure he'd see Hanzo again.

After all, he'd left something in his room.

 


	3. Intervention

The sun was nearing its apex as the team – jokingly dubbed “The Away Team” by a Winston desperately trying to lighten the mood – returned to the Watchpoint at Gibraltar. Their boat docked at a pier that could only barely be seen, behind an outcropping of rocks that successfully hid a winding staircase up to a side entrance to the base proper. The hired boat sailed away quietly, its job complete, and the three members climbed the stone stairs to their debriefing, and more importantly, their beds.

Genji arrived at the base first, as his instincts as a quiet scout would not allow him to let either of the two precede him. The Watchpoint was quiet, almost silent, and it would have made perfect sense to assume that it was still abandoned. But his eyes caught a glimpse of movement on a rooftop as he approached, just enough to assure him that the base was still manned, and that they had been successfully spotted.

“We have been seen,” he murmured quietly as his companions reached the top of the staircase. The dwarf was out of breath, moving to the side to lean heavily against the rocks. Genji’s master was the last to arrive, and it was clear that the levitating Omnic was unaffected by the steep climb.

“Then we shall be greeted soon.” Zenyatta’s voice was as calm and level as always.

Sure enough, they had barely entered through the gate when a blue streak popped into view. Lena greeted them and offered to accompany them to the debriefing in the same breath. Genji said nothing – it was not typically his place to take the lead in any given situation. Even his master did not bother to comment on a situation unless he felt it was called for, which meant that Torbjörn was the one who did all the talking.

The two comrades chatted amicably until the group reached the control booth that looked out over the cliffs and across the water. Genji pointedly ignored the stack of empty peanut butter jars at the side of the desk, instead choosing to focus on some scribbled notes on a whiteboard across the room. Hardly five minutes passed before they were joined by other Overwatch alumni, namely Jack Morrison and Doctor Angela Ziegler. Winston and Ana Amari arrived a moment later, and the meeting properly began.

Ana did most of the talking as to their mission to the other abandoned Overwatch bases. They had recovered some small amounts of data, although the usefulness would be left up to Dr. Ziegler to determine. There had been minimal difficulty, save for a single instance where the base had been taken over by a local gang of thugs. While the base had obviously been chosen for its defensive design, the gang had been unaware of exactly what had still remained, and both the squatters and the data had been dealt with swiftly.

Genji waited patiently through the meeting, choosing to interject only when he thought his additions would have some merit to their commanding officers. His own master only interrupted once or twice, and in general the entire meeting was fairly short and succinct.

It felt...off.

Perhaps it was his admittedly tenuous ability to care about such bits of red tape, but Genji found himself watching those around him during the conversation. Lena had nothing to say, and therefore was of little use in determining what was affecting the atmosphere. Winston had plenty to say – mostly questions for the team – and he always tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve, as it were. Perhaps, if the elephant in the room were to be touched upon, Winston would give it away with his expressions.

Jack Morrison, however, was the interesting one. He was steadfastly avoiding looking anywhere in Genji's direction, as though he was willfully ignoring his presence. That hardly made any sense. For what purpose would the former Overwatch commander be ignoring him? Genji puzzled over this thought as his gaze landed upon their lookout, who was leaning in a corner and watching them with a gleam in her eye.

It didn't take long for Genji to realize she was only really watching two people: Jack, and himself.

The meeting concluded and the team was disbanded to rest and relax before filtering into the watch rotation the next morning. Torbjörn left under the premise of seeing his daughter, and Lena hung back to chat more with Winston and Dr. Ziegler. He moved to follow his master out of the room and back to their adjacent quarters, when he was stopped by that twinkle in Ana Amari's eye.

“I will catch up to you later,” he said to Zenyatta with a small bow. His master responded in kind and continued down the stairs, and Genji moved to wait patiently by the hallway to the control room, just out of sight.

It wasn't long until he saw Jack walk by, followed half a minute later by the sniper. “Captain Amari,” Genji called out quietly, knowing before he opened his mouth that she'd already noticed his presence. “May I have a word?”

The older woman smiled in that way of hers that implied she would always know more than he ever could. “You may have several, Shimada.” Shouldering her rifle, she leaned against a table across the hall from him. “Shoot.”

Despite the invitation, Genji felt the need to be as concise as possible with his questioning. “What am I not being told?” he asked, and could tell from the moment the words left his mouth that it wasn't exactly the correct question.

Ana shrugged. “Oh, a great many things, I'd imagine.” The light caught her eye and Genji could see that twinkle yet again. When she chuckled, he knew he was at least on the right track. “Give it another try, go on.”

Rarely was Genji truly thankful for the mask that constantly hid his face. Now, as his cheeks flushed hotly from the old woman's teasing, was one of those times. “What happened while we were gone?”

He was answered with a grin akin to a victory buzzer. “Not too much. No attacks on the base. A mercenary was hired on to help with the shifts, but left before we arrived.” She paused for a moment, obviously catching herself. “Or, I should say, before _you_ arrived.”

Genji could have asked for clarification. He could have said the name out loud, asked for confirmation, anything that might have implied doubt as to who Ana was referencing. But he knew, and anything else was superfluous.

“How long?”

Ana looked at the sun outside the window, then to a bank of international clocks that hung on a nearby wall. “Ninety minutes, not more than two hours. You might be able to catch him.”

Genji shook his head gently, more for her sake than his own. “That is not necessary.” He began to walk towards the balcony exit, before pausing to look back towards Ana. “Thank you, captain,” he said pointedly, then made extreme haste back to his quarters.

He was there within two minutes' time, with the door locked and his armor removed in another sixty seconds. It was a ritual he had practiced so many times that it was hardly even considered as such anymore. He had been through phases of not wanting to take it off, and even more of not wanting to put it back on again. Now he recognized it for what it was – a tool, something he used and discarded as needed, and it no longer brought him grief by its very existence.

With the remaining flesh of his right shoulder now bare, he traced the fingers of his left hand over the tattoo that still marked what skin was left. The image was faded, of that he was sure, and twisted and scarred like so much of his body. But it still yet remained.

It had been several years since he'd done this, but he could think of no better – or swifter – way to send his message. He murmured the old words under his breath, almost a whisper, but growing stronger as he reached the end of the incantation. He could feel his skin burning at the edges of the tattoo, and he knew before he opened his eyes that it had worked.

The messenger hovered before him, body swaying and rippling in the air as it stayed aloft, a perfect miniature replica of his own spirit dragon. Bolstered by a sudden boost of confidence, Genji recited his message. In another moment the messenger was gone, up and through the shatter-proof glass bars that lined the window at the top of his room.

Content with his work, Genji folded his legs under him and inhaled long and slow. Meditation seemed like the best way to pass the afternoon as quickly as possible.

As for the evening, well, now he had somewhere to be.

~

The tiny hotel room had two twin beds, a smattering of drawers, and a sink. There was a door on one wall that led to a bathroom only a little smaller than the room itself. Everything was painted a nauseating faded shade of coral and overall, felt exactly as cheap and outdated as the price for the night had been.

Hanzo cared little for the aesthetics of his temporary abode. He had secured passage out of the country for the next morning, and had chosen the cheapest hotel available out of apathy rather than necessity. Any mattress was better than the ground, after all. He tossed his duffel on the bed closest to the window and carefully inspected the room in order to quell his ingrained anxieties.

Nothing seemed amiss in the room, which suited Hanzo just fine. He had just turned to the traditional packet of fliers on top of the drawers when the archer felt the hairs at the back of his neck prickle in anticipation. Dropping the leaflets in a messy pile on the floor, he whirled around to face the window he had just cleared and brought his bow to the ready.

It was open only a crack, but it was enough to let the sliver of green come flying into the room. Hanzo had an arrow nocked and aimed before he recognized the spectral light before him. He lowered his bow slowly, staring openly at the miniature version of his brother’s spirit dragon before him.

The dragon’s tiny mouth opened and Genji’s voice began, speaking in their native tongue:

“ _Brother, I ask you not to leave so quickly. One time, one meeting. Let us speak. Meet me at the rock cluster to the northeast of the base. I will come alone, one hour past the setting sun. I will be waiting_.”

When the message was complete, the dragon twirled in the air two times before it dissipated into nothingness.

Hanzo barely remembered that he was holding his bow, almost letting it drop to the floor before he thought to set it aside properly. He had not seen a spirit message from his brother in so long, he’d almost forgotten about it entirely. In a way, it was almost as though he was back in the Hanamura compound once more, staring down an intruder that turned out to be the brother he thought he’d killed.

He wanted to ignore it. Genji would have no idea as to his location if he were to simply stay in the room for the rest of the evening. The night would pass, and in the morning he would be on a plane to literally anywhere that didn’t have an Overwatch base.

There was a quiet pang in his chest at that thought, and Hanzo let himself fall backwards to sit on the bed. Learning that Overwatch had saved his brother had been a two-part blow: one, in that Genji had come to confront him and his failure to kill him, and two, in that he had sacrificed so much of his humanity to live as a machine instead.

The thought still sickened him. Machines were tools, made to assist mankind. They were not men.

Genji could not be both.

Despite that, Hanzo couldn’t argue that he now had feelings towards Overwatch that were less than hostile. Perhaps it wasn’t towards the organization itself, but it had certainly led to what had ended up being a very pleasant week. It wasn’t enough to justify ignoring his gut instincts, but he couldn’t help but consider it anyway.

He was suddenly very thirsty for a drink.

Hanzo moved to collect the leaflets he’d let fall to the floor earlier. Most were very simple – a picture of the restaurant and an address, although a few boasted hotel delivery – but that made it easy for him to hone in on the shadiest looking dive bar that had enough patronage to afford to advertise.

Taking the flier with him, Hanzo left the room and made his way down to the street. There was still quite a bit of day left, which meant he had plenty of time to drink until he could either make a decision or lose consciousness. Whichever happened first.

~

The sun set over the rock of Gibraltar.

The waters that surrounded the strip of land were home to so many ships and boats that nobody would notice if one or two extra were launched after the sun dipped below the horizon. Many passed by the many rocky outcroppings that dotted the shoreline, ignoring them as merely obstacles to wherever they were heading next in their ventures. As the light grew dimmer, the boats became fewer, until the only ones left were the largest ships with the brightest lights that stayed far away from any potential impact areas.

When the appointed time came, Genji sat crouched on a peak of rock that hid him from as much view as he could manage. If he was going to wait, he was going to be smart about it.

As it turned out, he did not have to wait long. He heard the whistle of air before he saw the arrow, and correctly determined that dodging was not necessary. The arrow struck the rock by his feet, reverberating with such intensity that Genji knew that he was not trusted.

“I came alone, brother,” he called out as loudly as he dared. He knew his voice would not carry to land in either direction, but he also knew better than to assume no one was listening at all.

Hanzo appeared a moment later, standing atop a rock opposite Genji. It was slightly higher than his, but still dwarfed by the largest one in the cluster. If anything, Hanzo’s perch was more exposed, and Genji noted that measure of tentative trust. There may be hope for them yet.

“ _I have_ _come as requested,_ ” Hanzo replied in crisp Japanese. It was an answer to his message, and acknowledgment of their shared history. “ _Make your case quickly._ ”

Genji stood, making use of his silhouette against the rock to show that he was unafraid of Hanzo’s posturing. “ _There is no need to run. We can work together. We are stronger as one._ ”

A ship’s horn sounded in the distance, an odd interjection in the already stilted conversation. “ _I am strong enough alone,_ ” Hanzo replied, his expression darkening as he seemed to look through Genji to the rocks behind him. “ _I do not need or want your assistance._ ”

“ _But you lend your strength to Overwatch._ ” Genji gestured behind them both towards the base that peeked out from the rocks not all that far away from where they currently stood. “ _That strength can be twofold, if not tenfold, if we were to fight together_.”

Hanzo snorted and looked away. “ _I lend nothing. I was paid for my time._ ” The older man paused then, something obviously weighing on his mind that only piqued Genji’s curiosity. “ _They know my worth._ ”

The statement struck Genji as incredibly odd. Not only was it a positive acknowledgment of the organization itself, but it felt somehow personal. It was as though Hanzo had a specific stake in the work he had done for Overwatch, and that did not escape Genji’s notice.

“ _I will not beg,_ ” Genji answered slowly. He wasn’t sure exactly how he wanted the conversation to go, but he’d known that he had to at least try. The fact that Hanzo had come at all was more than he’d honestly expected. The rest was on him. “ _But we do not need to be at odds. Brother-_ ”

“ _My brother is_ _ **dead**_ _._ ”

Genji was interrupted with a sudden ferocity that took him so off guard, he let one foot slide an entire inch backward on his perch. His balance didn’t falter aside from that, but he cursed himself quietly for showing even the smallest amount of subservience to Hanzo’s show of will.

Firming his resolve, Genji drew himself up to the full extent of his height and set his sights directly on his brother’s squared shoulders. “ _And yet I stand before you, even now_."

Again Hanzo scoffed, crossing his arms in the face of Genji’s resistance. “ _And what have I to say to the machine that claims to have my brother's soul?_ ”

It was then that it occurred to Genji exactly what had been plaguing his brother since their meeting at Hanamura. It wasn’t that his brother had harbored some secret hatred towards him before their duel that had changed his life forever. Perhaps it wasn’t even Overwatch itself that he deigned to be inferior. No, it was the technology that allowed him to live after his life was supposed to have ended. It was the machinery that gave him life that Hanzo had presumably taken away.

He had lived, and Hanzo could not accept that.

“ _I suppose...that is a start_.” Genji smiled. His brother had shown no warmth towards him, no actual sign of reconciliation, but he could read between the lines even without the visor that enhanced his vision. Perhaps, if he was able to introduce him to his own master, then they could-

Genji’s thoughts were interrupted by the echo of a gunshot and the immediate successive explosion of rock shards from the stone behind Hanzo’s back. Both brothers reacted instinctively, diving for cover while assessing the situation.

“ _A trick_!” Hanzo shouted, betrayal dripping from his voice. “ _You led me here to die_!”

There was no second gunshot, but Genji’s eyesight was keen enough to see the flash of metal off a sniper rifle being lowered at the base across the water. Perhaps it was still a strain, but it almost seemed as though the perpetrator was perched atop the flagpole that flew the Overwatch flag. Then a sharp volley of arrows flooded the air, glowing bright blue as Hanzo spotted the same rifle that Genji had and reacted accordingly.

One arrow struck the flag, perfectly through the center of the logo. The other five hit nothing but air as the sniper fled deeper into the base.

Genji raised a hand to turn on the communicator in his helmet. “This is Genji. I have spotted a sniper on the western edge. He has fled towards the maintenance bay. I am in pursuit.” He paused for one brief moment to look back at his brother, but saw nothing but the gunshot crater in the rock face.

He sighed, then returned to his boat. First and foremost, he had a duty to Overwatch, and to the people back at the base. It wasn’t his original plan for the evening, but it was the most pressing one at the current moment.

Perhaps he could save Hanzo from a sniper, but more importantly, Genji knew he could not save his brother from himself.

~

It had been a long time since the alarm system had been properly triggered in the watchpoint, but it was swiftly determined that they still were in perfect working order. It was far from red lights flashing and klaxons blaring, but there was a subtle signal to the blinking white lights that alerted anyone in the know to the fact that a hostile had been spotted in the base.

Jack had been in the canteen, grabbing a bite to eat with Ana when he heard the communication come across his earpiece. One look at Ana confirmed that she had heard the same, and they left half-eaten meals on the table as they both darted out of the room and back towards the maintenance bay. It was thankfully empty at the moment, meaning that they wouldn’t have to search around a large ship taking up half of the space.

It was also the most excitement the base had seen since the mission had begun. Within a minute there were calls of acknowledgment across the comms, and all of them scattered in teams of two to patrol the base.

One fruitless hour later, Jack found himself back in the control room with Ana, Winston, Angela and Genji.

“You’re sure you saw someone?” Winston’s voice was kind enough to not sound accusatory, something that Jack knew he couldn’t pull off were he in the same position. To send the whole base into high alert over a hallucination would have him angrier than he’d like to admit.

Genji nodded with certainty. “There was a gunshot. It hit close enough to be an obvious assassination attempt.”

“Or to look like it.” Jack crossed his arms as he looked out the window. The hole in the flag outside was proof of weapons being discharged, at the very least. “You were off the island?”

The ninja hesitated for only a moment before answering. “...yes.”

Jack didn’t miss the gleam in Ana’s eye. She only got that kind of twinkle when she was making trouble for somebody else, and Jack had a decent idea of what kind of trouble that was. “Your brother.” When Genji nodded, Jack reached up to rub his temples underneath his visor. “Shit. He probably thinks we did it.”

“I believe so.”

The confirmation did nothing to calm Jack’s nerves, but he was used to pulling himself together for everybody else’s sake, if not his own. “Alright, Winston, what’re we doing? Gonna still search, or pack up and ship out?”

Winston grunted to himself as he took his own time to look at the damaged Overwatch flag fluttering in the wind. “Doctor Ziegler,” he eventually said, before turning around to face the rest of them. “How is your progress? How soon can you mobilize?”

With her wings currently detached, Angela Ziegler took up less physical room than usual, but her presence didn’t suffer one bit. When she spoke, it was with the complete understanding that she was the only one in the room with the correct answer. “We are still in the process of analyzing the data, but it has already been transferred to a portable system. The entire operation can be packed and moved in ninety minutes, less if I have some help.”

Nodding, Winston turned back to Genji. “Ask Zenyatta to meet Doctor Ziegler in the server room to help her with the preparations. I want you to guard the door as they work.” The gorilla sighed as he looked out the window one more time. “Prepare for exit strategy C, departure time at twenty-two-fifteen.” He let his calm demeanor crack just enough to grab the nearest jar of peanut butter and twist open the lid. “Dismissed.”

They weren’t thirty seconds out of the room before Ana had to make a comment. “I’ll take first watch shift,” she said lazily, as though she was doing him a favor. “I suspect you have a message to send.”

“Well, you suppose wrong.” Jack grunted and hefted the rifle in his arms. He wasn’t used to feeling anxious about much in his personal life as of late, but he figured any worries could be soothed by the idea that he could probably shoot them. “I’ll take first shift, make the rounds and let the others know.”

Ana laughed as they exited the building, a cackle that spoke more of genuine mirth than her recent troublemaking. “Not alone you won’t,” she chided him as she brought her own rifle to bear. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this place packed up soon enough, and you’ll have plenty of time to send a message to your boyfriend.”

The sharp kick she received in her left calf was well-deserved. “He’s not my boyfriend,” Jack stated as plainly as he could manage. “Just another mercenary we hired on as a temp. And now he’s gone.”

“And meeting with his brother,” the older woman pointed out. “You asked him to, did you not?”

Jack froze in mid-step. He’d forgotten about that. “Shit.”

“Right then.” A light sparkled in Ana’s eye again, and Jack knew he was in for a world of taunting until his old friend got this completely out of her system. “Go on, I’ll cover you.” She hip-checked him forward, getting his feet moving again so he wasn’t standing out in the open like a waiting target. “You have ten minutes before I tell the others you’ve gone off.”

Grumbling to himself, Jack broke into a sprint. “I’ll be back in five.” He ignored Ana’s chuckling behind him as he made a hard bee-line to his quarters. There was no guarantee that Hanzo would see a message from him any time soon, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from sending one anyway.

If anything, he still had an arrow to return.


	4. Direction

To: TDH.81142615  
From: JJM.10131176

I heard what happened. You ought to know we didn’t do it. We’re looking for the sniper now, but we’re mobilizing the base immediately. FYI

~

To: JJM.10131176  
From: TDH.81142615

It matters not. I am far away from Gibraltar. I do not intend to return.

~

To: TDH.81142615  
From: JJM.10131176

Yeah? Well that’s fine, we’ve already left. Not gonna bore you with details but I’ll be in North America for a while. Let me know if you want your arrow back.

~

Hanzo reeled as he let his phone drop to the table. There was little space in his rented cafe booth, with half of the seat taken up by his bag and his bow leaning awkwardly against the wall. The leftovers of a quick convenience-store meal were scattered across the desktop, reminding him of how poorly he was eating now that he was back to wandering again.

“ _Masaka..._ ” When he’d fled the rocks after the sniper shot, he hadn’t thought he’d hear a thing from Overwatch again, let alone the man he’d been fucking for the week leading up to it. As logical as it was to assume Overwatch had nothing to do with the assassination attempt, he couldn’t quell the gut instinct that he’d been set up the whole time.

Of course he didn’t trust a word that Genji had to say on the matter. But when Jack had sent his first message, Hanzo had responded curtly and without most of the anger he had been feeling. He’d been in an airport at the time, switching to another plane that would take him somewhere far, far away. Perhaps he should have considered his full plan ahead of time, or he wouldn’t have ended up in a net cafe stall in Shinjuku.

With all that in mind, he’d never had guessed that Jack would keep the arrow he’d left in his room.

When Hanzo was honest with himself, he knew that it had just been an excuse to spend time in Jack’s room. He’d known that he didn’t need one, of course. They were both consenting adults and could choose how to spend their own time. But he couldn’t argue that the arrow gave him a freedom with Jack that he wouldn’t have felt otherwise. As he’d boarded the plane from Gibraltar, he’d assumed that freedom was gone.

Now Jack was in his message box, waving it in his face, all in the wake of a sniper taking aim at his skull and missing.

Hanzo still had time left on his booth rental. He stretched out in the seat, balling up his jacket to use as a makeshift pillow. Maybe after a nap he’d have a better idea as to how to feel.

~

To: JJM.10131176  
From: TDH.81142615

If I left something behind, I will retrieve it when necessary.

My current accommodations leave much to be desired. Perhaps yours are more comfortable.

~

A bland, unassuming gray box of a building on the California coast housed a little-used military-grade base inside its concrete walls. It was one of many scattered across North America, small pockets of respite for the organization that was only barely holding itself together against all odds. It was here that one chunk of the evacuated team from Gibraltar had settled, albeit temporarily.

The sniper had never been found. A thorough review of what little surveillance footage they had did confirm the sniper’s existence, although he’d done well in keeping his features well out of sight. He’d landed on the flagpole from the cliff face above the base, taken his shot, then fled a split second before Hanzo’s arrows had pierced the air where he had stood. While it seemed at first that he’d escaped deeper into the base, further video study implied that the sniper had left the same way he had arrived – up.

Still, Winston had put out what feelers they had available to them when it came to information. Jesse McCree was keeping an ear to the ground, wherever he was, and even Torbjörn had tapped his network for any leads. It wasn’t much compared to the sprawling resources that Overwatch once had, but it was all they could do for now.

Jack was one of three keeping watch at the California box while Angela continued to analyze the data they’d managed to recover. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was in that cluster of hard drives – Jack had never been one for the techie stuff – but it was obviously important enough to keep guarded at all times. He figured it had to at least be files on old members or recruits, but if it was information important to Angela, then it was just as likely to be important to O’Deorain as well. That alone was reason enough to make sure she – and the data – was safe.

He’d just finished a watch shift – one with a significantly less stunning view than Gibraltar, unfortunately – and had grabbed a few slices of pizza from the kitchen before heading back to his quarters. It was more of a dormitory room this time, but seeing as Jack didn’t have any plans for rolling around on the floor any time soon, it would work just fine.

When he flipped open his cell and checked his messages, he was halfway surprised to see a reply waiting from Hanzo. Their communication over the last week had been almost non-existent, and Jack wasn’t sure the archer was ever going to even give him the time of day again.

Jack read the message and almost choked on his pizza. Was Hanzo...inviting himself over?

He recovered quickly, swallowing the food and washing it down with a swig of cheap beer. When he read the message again, he paused at the last sentence. It didn’t matter how close he and the archer had gotten while they’d been working together, it didn’t fit that Hanzo would try and extract an invitation to visit. Instead, it seemed far more likely that the younger man was trying – and possibly failing – to make conversation.

Chuckling to himself, Jack leaned back against the wall and had another bite of pizza. There wasn’t much to do here, but he had a feeling he’d get by.

~

To: TDH.81142615  
From: JJM.10131176

My room here makes the one at the rock look like the Ritz.

Empty, though. Could use some decoration on the floor. I’m thinking something Japanese.

~

To: JJM.10131176  
From: TDH.81142615

Is the floor that much more comfortable than the bed?

Perhaps you could use something up against a wall. Americana, I believe.

~

To: TDH.81142615  
From: JJM.10131176

Wall’s not that bad. I could drape across it pretty easy.

It’d help if I had something to hold me there.

~

To: JJM.10131176  
From: TDH.81142615

That Japanese fixture on the floor would be sufficient.

It would pin you right in place.

~

Jack finished his meal and tossed the disposable plate at the rubbish bin, not worrying too much when he missed and it slipped onto the floor. The hour was unspeakable and his body was feeling it, eyes growing heavy each time he checked his cell for a message that perhaps the system hadn’t notified him of yet.

He knew he should sleep. But maybe he could stay up just a little longer. Just because.

~

Days turned into weeks that became months. Hanzo stayed in Japan long enough to get his bearings, finding a few leads for work that sent him back across the world again. All the while he managed to keep in regular contact with his new associate in Overwatch, telling himself that he was only using the communication to alleviate boredom than actually forming any sort of emotional attachment.

It was a lie, but certainly not the first one that Hanzo had forced himself to believe.

Jack appeared to stay in North America for the duration of Hanzo’s stint in Australia. It was a mindless job guarding an outpost in the middle of nowhere, but it paid well enough to forgive the location. Satellite signal was abhorrent but Hanzo quickly discovered the best location in the camp to get at least half-decent reception in the early hours of the morning.

He next traveled to South Africa to serve as a bodyguard to a foreign dignitary during a political visit. Signal was much more plentiful and Hanzo shared several evenings exchanging messages with the blue-eyed American, once his sleep schedule lined up with Jack’s own. It came to an end when Jack’s unit migrated to another location, and their communications were cut off for nearly a week. When the older man finally managed to send another message, Hanzo was already on his way to Mexico City.

Messages were sparse between them at that point. It wasn’t due to any lack of interest, as far as Hanzo could tell. Rather, both of them were working independently and rarely had the time to line up for constant communication. With little binding them together aside from racy messages and that first week of enjoyable sex, Hanzo found himself wondering if there was any point in continuing the relationship as it currently was.

He would never admit to pondering the issue, but he was doing exactly that on the transit from Mexico City to his next contract. Hanzo had plans to stay in a local hotel for the night, then report for work the following morning. The jet lag hadn’t hit him too badly as of yet, and something in the back of his mind was niggling at him, but he suspected he would need to force his sleep schedule to conform before he risked being caught off guard on his first day. It was a contract he’d taken several times in the past, and he’d already booked a room at a hotel he’d used many times before. The staff were always quiet and discreet, and Hanzo appreciated the establishment for their demeanor more than the actual quality of their rooms.

Check-in was routine, and Hanzo was in the room with the door locked and bag on the floor before he remembered where he was. What had been a gentle nagging in the back of his head became a sudden stab of acknowledgment, and he knew who was there the moment before the bathroom door opened behind him.

“What, no hello?” The intruder’s voice purred at him as Hanzo sat down on the bed to remove his boots. “And here I thought we were friends.”

Hanzo made no attempt to hide his disdain at her words. “We are not friends,” he stated plainly as he placed his boots at the side of the bed. A glance towards the woman leaning against the wall revealed nothing but a bemused look on her face. “We are acquaintances, at best.”

Smirking, Sombra gestured broadly with one gloved hand. “With benefits,” she pointed out. “Especially the benefit of letting me ride you.” Her hips swayed as she sashayed her way over to straddle Hanzo’s lap. “A benefit I would like to collect, Shimada.”

It had started with a chance encounter at a dive bar in Dorado two years ago. The resulting one-night stand had turned into a semi-regular occurrence, whenever Hanzo found himself in town for a contract. He never contacted Sombra, of course. She always knew when he was coming, and where he was staying. He’d decided it was better not to ask how.

In the past, they’d exchange some banter, have sex, and move on with their lives. But while it had been nearly six weeks since Hanzo had seen some action, he found himself unexpectedly not in the mood.

“Not this time,” he said firmly, but not unkindly. He moved her from his lap while looking elsewhere, preparing to withstand what he knew, from past experience, would be a sarcasm-laden temper tantrum from being turned down.

Instead, as he rooted around in his bag for a few random items, he heard her chuckle in amusement. “So, it’s true.” Sombra resumed her earlier pose of leaning against the wall, arms crossed as she ran one hand through her loose forelock. “You’ve been banging old soldier-boy.”

Hanzo tried to control his reaction, but the obvious stutter of his hand gave him away as he pulled out a bag of toiletries. There didn’t seem to be any malice in Sombra’s voice. If she had been anyone else, Hanzo would consider the statement to be a friendly one.

But this was Sombra. Every interaction had a purpose. If she wasn’t here to coerce him into sleeping with her, then she had an ulterior motive.

Sombra shrugged and tried a different tact. “Can’t say I pegged you for the monogamous type,” she said in her crisp, heavily accented English. Then she grinned wide, looking down to check her perfectly manicured artificial nails. “Of course, I never did peg you.”

Grunting in frustration, Hanzo pushed his bag aside and climbed back to his feet. He wasn’t too much taller than the woman before him, but he summoned his full height for effect nonetheless. “The company I keep is no business of yours,” he replied tartly. More than anything, he wanted her to leave so he could properly rest.

“Oh, I disagree.” Sombra sashayed her way back over to him, draping one hand over his shoulder as she curled against his side.

Hanzo made a concerted effort to not lean into her touch. “Then you are jealous.”

Her reaction was immediate, nearly shoving him away in her speed to disconnect. “I am _not_ jealous,” she spat, only barely keeping her composure as she stalked towards the dresser against the opposite wall and lifted herself up to sit on it. “But a girl hears things. And maybe she wants to make sure an _acquaintance_ isn’t left in the dark.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow in surprise before he thought twice and narrowed his eyes instead. “The price?” They hadn’t done business together before, but he still knew well enough how Sombra operated. She wouldn’t offer him information unless she had something to gain from the exchange.

The hacker raised her hands in a mock surrender. “No charge!” She looked him up and down lasciviously, as if to imply that she could have had any payment she’d wanted. “At least, not right now. In the future? You owe me a favor.” Sombra caught the wary look on Hanzo’s face before he had a chance to even open his mouth. “Just a little one,” she said, pinching her fingers. Then, with a mock sigh, “Fine, it’s a gift.”

Still skeptical, Hanzo crossed his arms and gave her the most challenging glare he could muster when his boots were leaning against the wall behind him. “And what is this information?”

“That sniper that took aim at your head,” she said while mimicking a gunshot with her hands. “You have to be wondering if your boyfriend set that up.”

Hanzo bit back the urge to deny his relationship status. It was far from accurate, but then again, perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to let Sombra have a bit of misinformation. “And?”

“He didn’t.” The hacker’s demeanor shifted in front of his eyes. She went from a casual stance on his dresser to a confident presence that commanded the room itself. Sombra raised a hand and with a few flicks of her fingers, brought up her hard light display to show him a few key images: a news article, two surveillance snapshots, and a portrait photo of an unfortunately familiar face.

“Kazama Kazuya.” The name tasted like acid as it spilled from Hanzo’s lips. He knew too well the head of the primary rival to the Shimada clan, and had a number of encounters with the man himself. It had been when he was being groomed to succeed his father, of course, but he couldn’t recall a single good word that had ever been said in that man’s stead.

Sombra whisked the article to the forefront, tapping at a highlighted line. “When his main competition left the market, the Kazama conglomerate wasted no time taking it over.” The next two snapshots revolved into view, side by side. “But Señor Kazuya? He does not trust that the Shimada empire is dead. There are two contracts out for your head.” She let the images sit in the air for another moment before dismissing them with a wave of her hand. “At least, that I know of.”

This new knowledge did not worry Hanzo. He’d had to deal with assassins before, when the Shimada clan was actively trying to erase him from their history. They had failed. Few assassins had gotten as close as the sniper that night in Gibraltar, however. That in itself gave Hanzo some pause.

The hacker pushed herself off the dresser and took a few steps towards him. “Of course, feel free to doubt me. After all, when it comes to free information, you get what you pay for.”

Hanzo wanted to shrug it off, dismiss Sombra and her gift as something not worth his time or energy. But he had a gut instinct towards preserving what honor he had left, and he hated the idea of failing to acknowledge the usefulness of Sombra’s favor.

“I shall,” he finally decided to say. It validated Sombra’s gift while keeping her at a figurative arm’s length. “You have my thanks.”

The woman laughed as she came in close to Hanzo’s side once more. “Keep your thanks,” she purred, before reaching up and grabbing his chin, dragging him down into a hard kiss. When she let him go and he took a step back, she grinned. “The look on your face is payment enough...for now.”

Sputtering, Hanzo glared at her as he struggled to find a worthy retort. But she turned her back to him, waving one last time as she slipped quietly out the door of his room.

“Witch,” he finally muttered under his breath. It was completely ineffective, but it felt better than not having said anything at all. He locked the door behind her and locked the window as well for good measure. The news of the price on his head was one thing, but he couldn’t help but feel more shaken by Sombra’s appearance in the first place.

He caught the blinking of a light out of the corner of his eye, his phone’s notification of a received message. Hanzo knew without looking that it was another text from Jack, another invitation to distraction that he was sorely tempted to accept.

Instead he grabbed his toiletries and set about readying himself for bed. His dalliance with the soldier could wait – first, he had a contract to fulfill. Downtime could be spent verifying Sombra’s information.

Should it pan out, however? Then he could see about calling in some backup.

 


	5. Strategy

The hotel was a large building on a major road in Ikebukuro, mostly unassuming on the outside, save for an odd sort of spiral staircase from the first floor to the second. The several floors went upward were a bland box sort of wall, with no bright signage to announce the rooms that waited inside. On the outside was a small blue sign with the name of the hotel in white, next to a loud and gaudy convenience store that boasted being open 24 hours.

Jack shifted his bag on his back as he walked up to the door and poked his head inside. The outside had been a stormy blue with black windows, dark and dull. The inside of the hotel, however, was painted bright white with cheery yellow signage. There was a lone man tending the reception desk, and while he was obviously tending to some paperwork, he took the time to lift his head and greet Jack as the clearly foreign man walked through the door.

Swallowing his pride, Jack nodded to the man politely, then made a bee-line for the elevator. The receptionist made no move to follow, and Jack jammed on the seventh floor button as soon as he was inside. For as clean and modern as the inside of the building looked, the elevator still managed to clank and clatter its way up every single floor until it ground to a halt at his destination. When the door opened, he was only partially taken off guard by the Japanese man waiting for him on the other side.

“Hanzo?” Jack sputtered after he’d nearly walked into the man he hadn’t seen in six months. “Goddamn, kid, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

Hanzo gave him a quirked eyebrow and stepped aside to let him exit the elevator. “Are you in such poor health? I apologize, I was unaware.” Jack gave him a flat look and pushed past him into the hallway. “Room 713,” Hanzo reminded him as the elevator doors closed behind them, and the two walked down the hall and through the indicated doorway.

Jack's original intent had been to drop his bag the moment he'd entered the room. Apparently, the room had other plans, as there was absolutely no space by the door itself. A short hallway led to what had to be a bathroom on the left, followed by a few feet of open floor before a queen bed that was shoved into the front corner of the room. When he walked to the foot of the bed, he could see a strip of space on the left wall with a desk, shelves, and tiny refrigerator. Against the wall behind him was a sink and tiny cooktop, obviously some attempt at a kitchenette.

“I've stayed in worse,” he finally said aloud, stashing his bag on a shelf cut into the wall. “But I've definitely stayed in better.”

Hanzo simply chuckled as he watched Jack inspect the space. “This is actually big for a hotel room,” he finally informed his foreigner companion. “Most rooms have a bed and nothing else.”

Shaking his head, Jack sat down on the bed and began to remove his boots. “Wonderful. So, what's next? Sharing a sandwich while you tell me what the hell is going on?”

A frown came and went across Hanzo's face quickly enough that Jack didn't even catch it. “We could go out and eat. I would advise against talking strategy in public, however.” He paced over to the tiny window above the head of the bed and peered outside. “Convenience store food is closest. Or ramen, for delivery.”

Jack waved his hand dismissively before shoving his boots under the bed. “Get food here. However you want it is fine.” While he was hungry, he certainly wasn't picky, especially when he was in another country and unfamiliar with the options. He could eat ramen, raw fish, plain rice, whatever – he just didn't want to put his boots back on again.

Hanzo nodded in response and took a moment to think. “I will go buy us food,” he said eventually, and it was only then that Jack realized that the other man was wearing more common street clothes than he'd ever seen him in before. It was strange, but he had to admit they suited Hanzo better than he would have thought. “Stay here. I will return soon.”

“Right. Sure.” The words came automatically, and it wasn't long before Hanzo was out the door. Sighing, Jack flopped backwards onto the bed, and was surprised to find it fairly comfortable. Not the softest thing in the world, but far from sleeping on a brick. The room in general seemed to fit that scheme – not amazing, but not bad. A clean and functional hovel, ready to house them as they planned...whatever it was that they were there to plan.

The two of them had kept in touch, sure. Most of it was dirty messages sent back and forth, which Jack had been thoroughly enjoying. There had been some vague communication as to their locations, and then suddenly Hanzo had asked him to fly out and join him in Japan. He'd hinted at a 'common goal', which Jack took to mean either a mission or a booty call, and he figured combining the two wouldn't be too terrible. He made sure that Ana knew where he was going before he left the country, even though he knew that meant there was a decent chance she'd follow behind to keep an eye on him. He figured that was her call, not his, and as long as she wasn't peeking through their window, he wasn't going to get in her way.

Now that Jack was alone in the room, he took the time to fully inspect it. The walls seemed solid, and the window was small and high enough that a quick escape would be difficult. The desk seemed sturdy, if small, and a sliding door under the shelf revealed Hanzo's own duffel bag. While there was a small rice cooker and one set of pots and pans, the kitchenette was sparsely stocked and it was highly unlikely they'd get any use out of it. And the bathroom was just as small as he'd feared, with some weird square tub-and-shower combination next to a toilet that had entirely too many buttons.

The room itself checked out as safe, however, and Jack didn't find any wires, bugs, or indications of a trap that he might need to look out for. He was just sharing a regular tiny hotel room with a lover he hadn't fucked in half a year. Jack rapped on the wall with his knuckles and was rewarded with a surprisingly dull sound. At least their tiny box seemed to be relatively soundproof.

Hanzo returned a few minutes later with a pair of plastic bags, both stuffed full of various food and snacks. He emptied out a few cans of beer, some small glass jars of sake, a multitude of rice balls, as well as fried chicken, large dumplings, chips, and some sort of fried patty Jack couldn't quite place. It would have been a feast for two regular men, but for two trained soldiers, it was merely a feasible meal.

“Right,” Jack said as he cracked open a beer and reached for a rice ball. “So. Why am I here?”

The other man opened a jar of sake in kind and took a long swig before replying. “I need your help.” Jack raised an eyebrow, but took a bite out of the rice ball and waited for Hanzo to continue. “There is a price on my head and it has become...inconvenient. I wish to take care of this problem before it becomes worse.”

“Assassins, huh?” The first rice ball was already gone, and Jack had to admit he was impressed with how substantial it had been. He reached for one of the dumplings next. “How many?”

Hanzo started with the fried chicken before he answered. “Roughly one a week. I am trying to avoid killing them, but it is becoming more difficult as they become more desperate to collect the prize.” His eyes darted to the window briefly before settling back on Jack's face. “I require assistance in...persuading the issuer of the bounty to rescind it.”

The dumplings were filled with meat, which Jack heartily enjoyed. “So who is it?” he asked, before taking another bite. “And what's the plan?” The skeptic in him wanted to confirm that there even was a plan in the first place, but he'd figured the archer had to have something in mind before calling him all the way to the other side of the world.

Hanzo finished his first small jar of sake with a solid chug. “Ultimately, the head of the Kazama clan.” When Jack responded by practically choking on his second dumpling, Hanzo shook his head and quickly amended his answer. “Going after him directly is too dangerous for now. Instead, we will target the second in command, Kureshima Takuya. He takes charge of elimination orders, and should we change his mind, the attempts will cease.”

“Just like that?” Jack was somewhat surprised that he was slowing down with dinner. Japanese food didn't seem like much, but it was doing a decent job of filling him up anyway. “That's way too easy. And killing him will just make all this shit worse.” He waved his half-eaten dumpling around to vaguely gesture his concern. “What dirt do you have on them to get them to fuck off?”

Grimacing, Hanzo peeled the top off the second jar of sake. “I do not have any 'dirt', save for what is common knowledge that law enforcement already conveniently overlooks.” He took a sip and grabbed a rice ball for himself. “In general, there is little that can convince them to abandon their efforts to permanently silence me. My best hope lies in helping them see that I have no desire to rebuild my clan's empire, and show them that continued attempts at taking my life will only earn them corpses as retainers.”

Jack chuckled darkly as he finished the dumpling in his hand. “Sounds an awful lot like 'ask nice and hope for the best', kid.” He shook his head and downed the rest of his first beer. “We both know that won't work. So what's the backup plan?”

“Hostage negotiation.” Hanzo took several bites of the rice ball and tossed the wrapper into the garbage pail under the desk. “If we approach Kureshima in his home office, and he does not agree to see things our way, we can subdue him and use him as a bargaining chip with Kazama himself.” He frowned at the filling, a pickled plum that seemed to personally offend him. “It is far from ideal, but I am at a loss as to a more effective – and palatable – tactic.”

The soldier shook his head as he cracked the top of his second beer. “From a simple request to a risky hostage negotiation? Goddamn.” He took a long swig and moved back further on the bed. “This is getting pretty dicey, Hanzo.” The name drop was enough to convey how skeptical Jack felt about the situation. “What's the exit strategy? Run as fast as we can?”

Hanzo shook his head. “I need help.” He could have expanded on that statement, but it was enough to communicate how frustrated the younger man was with the task at hand. “I could think of no better than yourself.”

It was intended as a direct compliment, but Jack took it in as much stride as he could muster. “What, so you didn't have me fly to Japan just for a roll in the hay? And here I was hoping.”

“I-” Hanzo cut himself off as he tried to find a retort and failed. He stuffed the rest of the rice ball into his mouth and turned away to look in the bag for something else to eat – or to hide the flush that had just crept up onto his cheeks. He'd been ready to defend his need for Jack to help him in his personal mission, but he hadn't quite been prepared to be reminded of the relationship they'd found themselves in. That was his own mistake.

“Our...previous encounters...are a reason I chose to contact you for this mission,” the archer admitted slowly. “Not out of any...expectation...but because I respect your strength and ability on the field.” He finished the last of his sake and placed the glass jar on the desktop beside them. The alcohol was starting to show in his face as his skin flushed even further. “You have my apologies if that is not amenable to you.”

Jack was nowhere near as inebriated as Hanzo, even as he finished off the last of his beer. Still, he drank infrequently enough these days that just the two cans were enough to give him a light buzz. He had enough of a sense of reason left to realize that it wasn't as sharp as it should be while they were planning a mission.

“We'll talk more in the morning,” he said as he placed his empty can next to Hanzo's sake jar. “Business can wait, I think.” Jack turned to face Hanzo fully, dragging one knee up and over the younger man's legs until he was partially straddling him on the bed. “Y'know, unless that's...not amenable?”

Hanzo was still wearing his jacket, and it fell open as Jack pushed him further back onto the bed. Underneath was a plain black shirt, not unlike what the soldier wore on a regular basis. Jack couldn't help but run his hand across the soft jersey knit. For all the times he'd had his hands on Hanzo's clothing, it had always been the worn silk of his more traditional clothing. These modern clothes were a novelty that Jack had every intention of enjoying.

“It...is amenable.” The archer's soft response caused a flutter in the base of Jack's stomach, a weird sensation that he wasn't used to feeling. Perhaps it was the careful consideration that came between those spoken words, or the hint of arousal in the deeper tones of Hanzo's voice. Whatever it was, it was evident now against Hanzo's thigh, and the younger man moved against Jack in response.

That was all the permission Jack needed to take things further. It only took a few seconds of awkwardness to get rid of the jacket, tossing it to to the floor in a crumpled heap. His own jacket followed, leaving them both in pants and tee shirts stretched tightly across their muscular chests. Jack pushed his hand under the hem of Hanzo's shirt, dancing his fingers along the subtle ridges of the younger man's abdomen. He was rewarded with a squirm and a light moan, then Hanzo's own hand moving to his hip and gripping him tightly.

It was slow, the two of them finding their rhythm again. The bond that had been formed between them over the course of a week was still there, just dusty after months of neglect. Hanzo's hand moved from Jack's hip to the craggy expanse of his chest, brushing his thumb deliberately against a nipple and eliciting a delicious moan from the older man. It was a moment before Jack recovered, and grabbed Hanzo by the hips to move them both squarely on the center of the bed. A plastic bag rustled as it was knocked unceremoniously to the floor, making space for Jack to push back enough to unfasten the buckle of his belt.

Jack's pants were followed by his underthings, until he stood naked in front of a far-too-dressed Hanzo before him. The younger man was somewhat silent, but entirely cooperative, as Jack made short work of stripping him nude and tossing all their clothes into the pile by the bed. He realized too late that the casual clothes were already gone, but it gave him the opportunity to notice the little ways that Hanzo had changed in the past half year. The sides of his hair were shorter, buzzed close while the rest of his hair stayed pulled up in a ponytail. Silver balls glinted on either side of his nose, the only new piercing that Jack could immediately identify.

“Any other new additions I should know about?” he asked slyly as he sank to his knees on the edge of the bed and took Hanzo's stiffening cock into his hand. The tip was as unblemished as before, as well as the rest of the shaft. He leaned in to lick a long stripe from root to tip, keeping his eyes locked on Hanzo's face as he did so. “Not that I hate those kind of surprises.”

“No,” Hanzo began to reply, before it trailed off into a long, needy moan. “Nothing...like that.” He blinked twice to try and keep his senses together, matching Jack's steady gaze. “At least, not yet.”

Jack answered by sucking the tip of Hanzo's cock into his mouth and pushing his tongue hard along the underside. It wasn't long before the archer's fingers were buried in his short hair, grabbing the silver strands tightly as Jack lavished attention upon him. Several long minutes followed of Jack working his hardest to get the most delicious sounds out of Hanzo, and enjoying every single second of it.

Occasionally, one of Jack's hands would venture northward to drag across Hanzo's hip, or dance down the thin trail to his navel, or – most enticingly – give a tug or gentle twist to a nipple. The archer's reactions became gradually more involved, until even the lightest flick of a nipple resulted in barely-contained bucking and a heady moan. The more worked up Hanzo was, the harder Jack got in response, until the two were moving and thrusting against each other in something just short of a heated frenzy.

Eventually Jack had to pull away – not just to save his own sanity, but to go hunting in his bag for that tiny bottle of lube he'd bought fresh just for this trip. He found it without much fuss, but when he came back to straddle Hanzo's waist, he felt the younger man's legs lock behind his waist and twist him down towards the bed. Jack hit the mattress with a grunt, and in another moment their positions were completely reversed, with Hanzo sitting high above him at his waist.

Grunting, Jack held up the bottle as a kind of peace offering. “Hey, I got this,” he protested.

Hanzo deftly plucked the bottle from Jack's fingers. “No, I do.” While there was little Jack could do without starting a full out wrestling match in the tiny hotel room, he was nonetheless surprised when Hanzo put a generous amount of the lube on his own fingers and went not to work Jack open, but his own hole.

Even in their dirty chats together, Hanzo had staunchly refused to bottom in their encounters. Jack had figured it was nerves, or some kind of superiority complex. But the skill Hanzo was displaying as he worked his fingers into his own hole, slowly fucking himself open with heavily-lidded eyes and slackened jaw, made it clear that Hanzo had always known exactly what to do when it came to taking another cock.

By the time the bottle had disappeared and Hanzo had positioned himself above Jack's thoroughly interested dick, Jack still wasn't fully prepared for the thought of his lover in his position. But Hanzo only gave him a few scant seconds to argue before he sank himself down onto his prize. Jack found himself struggling to keep his eyes open to watch the entirety of the beautiful scene playing out on his lap, as Hanzo's eyes rolled up into his head with a skin-melting moan.

He fit into Hanzo like he never thought possible. The archer was tight without being overly slippery, a splendid constant pressure on all the right places along his cock. Hanzo slotted into place in his lap like they were made for each other – and even though those smooth thighs were settled flush against his pelvis, Jack couldn't help but think that the younger man could even take a few inches more without protest.

It was a small miracle, but Jack watched every feature on Hanzo's face as they fit together, putting as much effort into enjoying the expressions that played out over his face as he did into keeping himself from thrusting hard enough upward to throw him off. As strong as his will was, it eventually faltered, and allowed himself to move slowly against his seated lover. At first it was just a statement of intent, testing Hanzo's readiness and possible limitations. But then Hanzo pitched forward, catching himself on the soldier's hips, and used that as leverage to slowly rise up and down on Jack's cock.

It was heaven.

“Fuuuuuu...” The word was so long and drawn out that Jack never got to finish it. He was interrupted by Hanzo moving down against him, riding his dick like an old pro as he leaned forward and nipped his teeth at Jack's ear. It was far from a kiss, but it was still more intimate affection than Hanzo had ever shown in the past. A primal groan ripped its way from Jack's throat and he nuzzled his face along Hanzo's, dragging his lips along the line of the archer's facial hair.

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, moving against each other in an agonizingly slow dance, nipping and licking along each other's necks and jawlines until Jack knew he couldn't take anymore. It was maddening, it was intoxicating, and all he wanted to do was flip Hanzo over and fuck him until they couldn't even remember their own names.

And when Hanzo ran a tongue along the shell of Jack's ear, followed by a throaty whisper of “ _Take me, Jack_ ,” the soldier lost any sense of self-restraint he might have had left.

In another moment their world spun as Jack flipped them over again, only barely managing to stay inside the other man before they were settled. The older man's white hair was completely mussed, an apt compliment to the hair that was helplessly falling out of Hanzo's formerly neat ponytail. The archer was red-faced and breathless, his mouth hanging slack as brown eyes barely managed to focus on Jack's intense stare.

Jack took a few seconds to appreciate the view, running one hand down Hanzo's muscled side, before grabbing hard at the archer's hips and launching into a rough, frenetically-paced set of thrusts. The bed squeaked pathetically below them, trapped under two superbly-muscled men with formidable reserves of strength. The springs wailed with every thrust, the bed rocking into the wall as Hanzo lifted his hips to expertly take every inch that Jack wanted to give him.

Before long their coupling became little more than creaks and groans and hot skin on skin, until Hanzo broke the cadence with a guttural cry as he came in thick spurts across his chest. The irregular rhythm spurred Jack to follow him over the edge, and he gave a sobbing grunt as he unloaded deep inside the younger man. He rode the waves of pleasure blindly until he was spent. Then the world went dim and he pitched forward, just barely catching himself from falling entirely. Time passed quietly as the two laid together, still joined, basking in the embers of their afterglow.

Jack was the first to move. He slid out from Hanzo and flopped to one side of the bed, rolling over to face the ceiling as he raised one arm over his head. “Shit,” he said simply, and let the word hang in the air by itself.

Hanzo moved a moment later, pushing himself up to a sitting position and looking utterly wrecked. He looked down at the mess on his own stomach in some sort of awe. It was almost as though the archer was shell-shocked.

“You alright?” The words creaked in his throat, and Jack realized he was just as wrecked as Hanzo. It crossed his mind that maybe he'd hurt the other man, that maybe something had gone wrong that he'd not noticed until far too late.

It took a bit too long, but Hanzo eventually shook his head. “No, I am fine.” Jack didn't doubt the words, but he also noticed the tinge of confusion at the edge of Hanzo's voice. “I...should clean up.”

When Hanzo didn't move right away, Jack forced himself back up and off the bed. He found the nearest box of tissues and knelt at Hanzo's side. The younger man watched him with wide eyes as Jack began to clean the mess off Hanzo's stomach.

“I'd apologize for the mess you made, but I can't say I'm too sorry.” Jack smirked to himself as he continued to dab at the cloudy streaks. “You were too fucking good, kid. I...” He cleaned off the last bit and tossed the used tissues into the bin under the desk. “I don't think I deserve you.”

The statement seemed to shake Hanzo from his daze. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, facing partially away from Jack. Another moment passed before he looked at the pillows and spoke in an even voice. “There is only one bed tonight. Will you...share it with me?”

There was a vulnerability in the question that bothered Jack. While a part of him wanted to relish in seeing that softer side of his lover, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong tonight. “Yeah, of course,” he answered as casually as he could manage. He watched as Hanzo moved underneath the covers and turned to the side. He wasn't pulling away, but he definitely wasn't his usual self, either.

Jack walked to the other side of the bed, flicking off the lights before climbing under the bedsheets himself. He turned towards Hanzo and wrapped an arm around the other man's slender waist, pulling him easily back towards himself and placing a gentle kiss in the crook of Hanzo's neck. “G'night,” he murmured against tattooed skin.

He received a gentle hum in reply, and focused on that as he let his tired lizard brain get some sleep.


End file.
